Tuesday, 4 September 2012

Strive for Naseeha

The rebellious chamber of my heart
Who brought me to my knees till
I spoke the truth that I knew
That little part of me that nagging
Voice that says do it right the first
Time is not to be wasted so
Call them with the voice that
One day will be silent and
Grab them with the hands whose
Grip is fading fast-
Run! Faster till the ankles bleed
And say the words with downcast eyes
And cry if only so you know
you're still alive and kicking in
The glittered walls, of false invitations
Looking for true inclinations
And so you're flying with the unstable
Wings that reach for the 'v' but
You're on your own you see

You live a life of please don't
But they always do
The inevitable dying
little part of you
She was not a rebel, rather
A caller, reformer who dies
For she does exactly what
She is told because she hears
The words you are wrong
Too often

Hesitation breaks the weak
Steps that we take
It is hard for this tongue to speak
When it counts
There are lessons I wish I never knew
If you ask them to come with you
They don't refuse but trip you up
before they turn away innocently
you believe with forehead grounded
that perhaps they want
To get there before you
So these become the half formed prayers of
A rather impromptu sujood.

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